This morning at 8:15 I taught the same year 7 students that I taught yesterday afternoon for two periods. The difference was night and day. A few minutes before class started, I stood outside the room. As the students filed in about half the class smiled and said, “Hi, David.” I had managed to remember about half their names. They smiled at me and their body language was more welcoming. Clearly we were not strangers anymore.
I led them through a writing activity in which the students create a graph with x and y axes. On the y axis the kids plot out +5 and -5. On the x axis the students plot out how many years old they are. Then they plot each year in their lives. A grandparent died—that year was a -5. You learned to ride a bike—that year was a +3. After that, the students write a short phrase next to each event on the graph to note it. Lastly, they choose one event on the graph and write about it. Because their English skills are still rudimentary, I only asked them to write 5 sentences about the event they selected.
After they had time to compose, everyone shared what they wrote. Unlike yesterday with this group, no one hesitated. Everyone read enthusiastically. Joel wrote about the death of his pet rabbit and his new pet rabbit. Anna wrote about the going to summer camp for the first time and learning about photography there.
One student’s participation was particularly noteworthy. Yesterday Bendagouz’s body language told me, “I dare you to teach me anything.” Today, though, he participated nicely. As left he class, I purposely thanked Bendagouz for participating so well. After all the students had left, I told my co-teacher Zsolt that Benadgouz did such a nice job today. He told me that Bendagouz is having a difficult time at the Scheiber Sandor School and is in danger of being expelled.
One difference between the students at Beth Tfiloh and the students at Scheiber Sandor impacted me today. The students at Beth Tfiloh are incredibly polite. At the end of each class, nearly all the students say thank you as they leave the room. All teachers at Beth Tfiloh have that experience—not just me. Visiting or new teachers to Beth Tfiloh are amazed at that quality in our students. The ironic downside of their politeness, though, is that you never know when they are saying thank you out of habit or when they mean it. They say thank you all the time.
Today, though, I received a heartfelt thank you. I taught a year 11 English class. I decided that since I teach George Orwell’s 1984 to my 11th grade students at Beth Tfiloh I would teach these year 11 students my opening day 1984 lesson. I had no idea if these students would find it too difficult or not, but I thought that the issues that Orwell raises in the text are universal. I thought the class went well. The students seemed to enjoy it. At the end of class, though, I received proof. One boy, Marci, hung back as the students left. He obviously wanted to speak with me after everyone had gone. When the coast was clear, he came over to me. “Thank you,” he said. “That was really interesting.” Later, during lunch in the cafeteria, he saw me and called me over. He took me through the cafeteria line, explained what everything was, and gave me tips about what to eat and what to avoid. What a difference the second day makes.
